


the key to protection.

by andreil



Series: the key to us. [3]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, M/M, Overprotective, Stabbing, Violence, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 02:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10732245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andreil/pseuds/andreil
Summary: They want to protect each other so badly, but it's hard when danger is such a constant.





	the key to protection.

**Author's Note:**

> man at this point idek

The beginning was not a small trigger. It was a fight outside Eden’s Twilight, an unfortunate stabbing, and an arrest.

None of the Foxes started it, for once. A group of nasty, drunk bastards were loud on the streets of downtown Columbia, not at all aware of their surroundings. They were big and tall and built. When one of them bumped into Nicky, the Fox couldn’t even open his mouth to apologize before the stranger shoved him to the floor.

“Watch where you’re going, you fuck!”

Neil and Andrew had been a few steps behind the cousins and Kevin as they headed to the car. But the second the man touched Nicky, Andrew and Neil were there in a second. Andrew rammed the stranger with his side, knocking him to the floor, too. He was past six feet tall, built of muscle, and he was clearly shocked to have been knocked over by someone so small in stature. 

No one even had time to make snide remarks. The drunk men were on the Foxes as if they had been brimming with a fight, ready to tear at jaws. What they didn’t expect was for these tiny twenty-something year olds to easily withstand a fight. Aaron, Andrew, Neil and Kevin held their ground. Nicky tried to pull people apart, but the more he tried, the more he was shoved, and the more Andrew fought.

It went on for a few minutes before it was obvious that the strangers had no stamina, and were slowly growing tired. Neil wondered, momentarily, why Andrew had gone for fists instead of knives, but he figured the anger was too quick for thought.

Something in the air shifted so quickly that Neil’s spine straightened, and he took a few steps back from the group of people they’d been fighting off.

“Wha-?” 

“Dude, you _stabbed_ him?!” That was one of the men, looking at one of his friend’s, a tiny pocket knife in his hand and dripping with blood. 

The man with the knife stood there staring at his knife, breathing heavily, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

Neil looked at the person before him. Blond hair, armbands.

Andrew looked down at the small puncture wound in his stomach. He put his palm to it, covering the slow pour of thick blood. Then, incredibly slowly, Andrew bent onto one knee. Everyone stared as if in a trance. Andrew’s expression had barely changed besides an obvious twitch in his brows. 

They had actually stabbed Andrew.

Neil still doesn’t remember much of what happened next. He remembers people shouting Andrew’s name in worry, and then his own name as he charged at the man with the knife. He remembers blind rage, a fury worse than anything since Drake or Proust. A fury he has only held when it considered Andrew. He remembers his knuckles bleeding, a man’s face pummeled underneath him, the body still and unconscious - and yet Neil kept punching, still kept going until they physically pulled him off, and -

Neil couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, could only make out a blur of the world, but he still managed that one thought - “Andrew, Andrew, where’s-?”

There were red and blue lights and an ambulance and he finally realized that the people who pulled him off were not his teammates, but police officers. They turned his arms to the point that he winced, and then cuffed his wrists. He pulled on them frantically, suddenly panicking, unsure of what he’d done. At this point, he could barely remember the man. The only thing in his mind was Andrew. The blood coming out, the fall to his knee, the idea that he didn’t know where he was, if he was alive or not.

Neil heard familiar voices a few feet away, and he finally saw the ambulance. There was someone on a stretcher, presumably Andrew. He said something and tried to get up. Aaron shoved him back down.

“Neil’s fine. Worry about yourself,” Aaron said, and Neil felt relief burst through him. Andrew was alive enough to talk. 

“Andrew!” he called, struggling again on the cuffs. The officers pulled him to the car. Andrew sat up after hearing his name despite everyone around him telling him to lay down. Andrew looked faint and pale and there was blood on his face and hands, yet he still managed to stay awake. “Don’t worry,” Neil said, voice loud as he trying to call over the noise. The police were at the car now, and they began pushing him inside. “Go to the hospital, I’ll-” The door slammed shut.

Through the windshield, he could see Andrew trying to get up as people around him forced him back down. The cop car didn’t wait around long enough to let Neil see how the scene ended.

His heart sank with the thought that Andrew would be in the hospital without him. The siren on the car sang, and the car sped away.

 

A few hours later, the police released him. Neil told them as quickly as he could what happened, but the longer they took to question him, the more anxious he got. He needed this to be over. He needed Andrew. 

After talking to the police and waiting impatiently in a holding cell, Wymack came to get him. Neil didn’t know if there had been a paid bail, or if he was simply being released. Wymack didn’t even try to explain it to him. He took one look at Neil and knew there was only one thing on his mind.

They got in the car and headed straight to the hospital. Neil’s whole body had not stopped shaking all night. The ride was mostly silent.

“Your wrists are bleeding,” Wymack commented.

Neil barely heard the comment, and he certainly didn’t reply. He picked at the skin around his fingernails. 

“I know I’ve said it already, but he’s fine, Neil. Really.”

Neil breathed out. He had heard Wymack before, but he had to see Andrew to know it was true. All he could see was Andrew with blood on his hands. Andrew on a stretcher. The image of Andrew in a hospital without Neil. He felt nauseous, and it was hard to stop himself from throwing up in Wymack’s car.

They finally pulled up to the hospital and Neil was out of the car before it was even parked. He sprinted into the lobby, not waiting for Wymack, and was greeted by the whole team. 

“Neil!” Nicky called out, waving his hand over. His other palm held a cup of coffee. When Neil got closer, Nicky said, “Are you okay?” 

Neil didn’t answer. Instead, he kept walking, glancing down a hallway, not waiting for anyone else. He didn’t want people to ask him how he was. He couldn’t even fathom a response. His skin felt prickly and warm and he was pretty close to using his fists yet again.

“Wait, wait!” Nicky fell in step behind him as the others looked on, worried. “I’ll take you to his room.” They went down a few corridors and Neil followed silently. The walls were white with white doors. The hallways smelt of medicine and death. After a few seconds that felt like hours, Nicky calmly guided Neil to a closed door. He indicated the room, and Neil stepped in without thought. Nicky didn’t follow, so Neil closed the door behind him.

It was a private room, but the curtain that separated the bed and the sink was pulled. Neil figured Andrew had kicked everyone out as soon as he could.

“Get out,” Andrew grumbled.

Neil pulled back the curtain slightly, walking past it. Andrew was on his back with the head of the bed slightly elevated. When he heard the curtain move, he glanced over and stared at Neil. He was almost entirely expressionless, save for the slight downward pull of his lips. There was a hospital gown and a blanket covering his wound, but he looked the same as always. 

Neil walked to the edge of the bed. He kept eye contact with Andrew as he walked, but once he reached the bed, he glanced down at Andrew’s stomach. His hand lifted, and he saw how terribly he was shaking. 

His hand rested a few inches above Andrew’s abdomen. The trembling was vicious. His hand couldn’t stay still. He glanced up at Andrew.

“Can I…?” His voice was small and scratched.

Andrew’s expression didn’t change, but he nodded.

Neil’s palm laid flat on Andrew’s stomach. He was as gentle as he could be, scared to hurt him even more. Neil could feel the bandage beneath the gown. He felt like his palm was on fire, burned by the wound beneath it. Like he was connected to it.

“It was barely a scratch,” Andrew said.

Neil’s hand remained on Andrew’s stomach. His shoulders began to shake, and he curled in on himself, His forehead pressed against Andrew’s ribs. Carefully, he breathed in and out, trying to relax. He could feel Andrew’s body lifting and falling as he breathed; that, at least, was something he could hold on to.

After a bit, Andrew fell asleep. Neil made sure the curtain was spread and the door remained closed unless it was necessary. He didn’t go back out to check on their teammates. He sat beside the bed, alert and fully awake.

Only a few hours later, a nurse came in. Neil asked her what she wanted (not at all pleasant) and he gently woke Andrew up so he could take painkillers.

“I already told them I’m not taking any.” Andrew looked pointedly at the nurse. “She knows that.”

The nurse just shook her head. “I’m leaving them here, then.” She set them down on a small table beside the hospital bed and left, knowing she wasn’t welcome.

Neil looked at the painkillers and then at Andrew.

Andrew shrugged. “Aleve does the same shit.”

Just in case, Neil made sure Andrew didn’t throw the medicine out. He rubbed his eyes, yawned, then sat in the chair beside the hospital bed. He wanted to ask Andrew how he was feeling, but he knew it was pointless. Andrew wouldn’t answer a question like that seriously. And maybe, just maybe, Neil was scared to ask.

Andrew was picking through some jello with a spoon when he glanced over at Neil. “You didn’t sleep?”

Neil shook his head and focused his gaze at the television, which was shut off. He shortly wondered what time it was, then decided it didn’t matter.

Just as Andrew opened his mouth to say something else, the door clicked open. There were voices in the hallway, and Nicky said, “Knock knock!” to address their entrance.

Immediately, Neil pressed himself up against Andrew’s bed. He eyed his teammates as they came in, uncharacteristically unfriendly. Thankfully, it was just the cousins and Kevin, though Neil couldn’t help feeling irritated at their arrival. The closer they got, the more his skin burned.

“How’s our patient doing today?” Nicky asked.

No one answered. Andrew rolled his eyes and continued eating his jello. 

Nicky looked at Neil. “Is he doing fine?”

Neil furrowed his eyebrows. No, Andrew wasn’t doing fine. He was on a hospital bed. He had been stabbed. Nicky seemed to notice Neil’s slightly menacing expression and threw up his hands in defeat.

“Jesus, I’m just worried. You two…” Nicky shook his head and sighed.

“Nicky,” Andrew interrupted. “Go ask the nurse when I can be released.”

“Really? Already?”

Andrew gave him a flat look. Nicky left, muttering about how difficult the two were, and Aaron followed behind him.

Kevin went to leave, then he glanced back at Neil. “You’re coming to practice today, right?”

A hot burst of pure anger filled Neil’s body, and his hand gripped the gray blanket on the hospital bed behind him. 

“Kevin. You have two seconds to get the fuck out of my face.”

Kevin opened his mouth, thought better of it, ran a hand through his hair and then left the room without another word. Neil’s fist full of the blanket became painful, and as he let out a shaky breath, he released his hold. When he turned around, Andrew was eyeing him. Neil ignored him in favor of getting him another pack of jello.

 

The doctor announced that Andrew could leave on the second day. They gave him instructions for his stitches, including antibiotic and the pain pills, but the Foxes were already pretty familiar with the process. Andrew refused Neil’s offer to help and got dressed by himself. Less than 48 hours, and they were already out. 

The wound really hadn’t been as deep or terrible as Neil originally thought, but he couldn’t help himself from behind paranoid as they left the safe space of the hospital. He was constantly glancing out the windows of the car and eyeing the license plates of everyone else on the road.

Andrew looked at Neil’s fingers as they fidgeted against the steering wheel. Thankfully, the other Foxes had taken other cars, giving Andrew space and quiet on the car ride home. It was just the two of them.

Despite Neil’s obvious hovering and constant tension, Andrew hadn’t said anything yet. Neil guessed it was because this was how Andrew felt whenever Neil got hurt. The pain of it made Neil’s fingers turn white as he gripped the wheel.

When they got back to Fox Tower, the others were waiting outside, offering Andrew help to get up the stairs. Andrew ignored them all while Neil shooed everyone back at least five feet. Their buzzing was like an itch Neil couldn’t scratch - being surrounded by anyone, even his own family, made him nervous. He remained directly behind Andrew, feeling his veins sizzle whenever anyone else got too close. He barely said a word to anyone, only looking for signs of pain from Andrew. But Andrew walked on, unbothered.

And Andrew’s usual apathy was as bothersome as always. That’s the one thing about Andrew that made Neil angry: Andrew’s complete and blatant disregard for his own safety.

They got to the room and it seemed like Nicky, Kevin, and Aaron were going to come in, too. Thankfully, Andrew stopped in the doorway.

“I’m taking a nap so go away and be quiet.”

Nicky frowned, looking at Andrew then Aaron. Aaron stared at his brother for a flat second before shrugging and walking back to his own room. Nicky paused but eventually followed. Kevin, however, didn’t take the invite.

“I’ll crash on the couch,” he said when he saw Neil’s slight glare. “What? I’m tired.”

Andrew was already in the room, kicking off his shoes and jacket. Neil went to help him get out of the jacket, but Andrew swatted him away. Neil didn’t try to approach him again, but he didn’t take his eyes off Andrew. He made sure to keep an eye on the way he held himself, on the possible flinch of a brow, on the blood that could soak through his shirt at any moment.

Andrew sat on his own bed and nodded at Neil’s bed. “Go to sleep. I don’t want to see you yawn one more time.”

They looked at each other for a short moment. Eventually, Neil gave up and climbed into his own bed. He knew he was hovering, and it was probably less painful for Andrew to lay in the same twin bed.

Neil tried to sleep, but he was wired. Everytime he dozed off, he forced his eyes open. Sleep wasn’t an option. Two hours passed as he laid there, when there was a soft rustling. He looked over his bunk to Andrew’s single bed, seeing that Andrew was awake. Neil sat up and began climbing down, ignoring Andrew’s glare of annoyance.

“Go back to sleep,” Andrew said.

Neil didn’t reply. Instead, he went out to the kitchen where he began boiling water, ready to make tea. Andrew came out of the bathroom to find a hot mug of tea on the counter for him. Neil was on the couch, eating a banana and acting innocent. Andrew eyed the mug before ultimately deciding to take the tea.

Neil was getting up to toss out his banana peel when Nicky and Aaron came inside the room. Andrew was leaning against the kitchen counter, finishing off his tea.

“Are you feeling better?” Nicky asked, face covered with worry.

“It wasn’t a terrible wound to begin with.”

Aaron scoffed. “You’re beginning to sound like Josten.”

Neil didn’t say anything, but Aaron had a point. Andrew was treating his pain like it had been nothing.

Andrew just shrugged, not bothering with a reply to his brother.

Nicky smiled. Always the neutral party. “You’ve always been the strongest. I know you’ll get better real fast.” Then, like it was the simplest thing in the world, he put his hand on Andrew’s shoulder.

Neil really had no excuse, but he felt his arms shove into Nicky’s chest. Nicky fell backwards, his hip landing into a corner of the kitchen cabinets. The contact put him off balance, and he fell to the floor.

“Ow, shit,” Nicky muttered, hand on his hip.

“What the fuck, Neil?” Aaron asked, stepping closer to Neil. Neil heard a buzzing in his ears.

“Nicky… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, it’s fine-” Nicky said.

“It’s not fine! He just shoved you for no fucking reason,” Aaron snapped back.

“Aaron,” Andrew said. Everyone paused to look at him. “Take Nicky back to your room.”

It was still for a moment. Aaron finally tsked and reached down to help Nicky stand up.

“I’m really sorry, Nicky, I don’t know why I-”

“Neil. It’s fine, really. Forget it,” Nicky said, but he was visibly rubbing his hip as the two exited the room.

Neil looked at his hand. It was shaking. 

Kevin came out of the bathroom. There was a towel wrapped around his hips. He looked at the two of them and easily sensed the tension.

“What happened?”

“Get out,” Andrew told him.

“Okay, let me just grab my clothes-”

“Now, Kevin.” Andrew’s voice was like ice. Steel. Non-negotiable.

Kevin looked between Andrew and Neil and finally walked toward the door, muttering how much he despised living with them.

There was a steady buzzing in Neil’s head. He felt dizzy. His cheeks felt hot. Andrew was looking at him, but he couldn’t stand in the kitchen anymore. If he stood under the kitchen lights any longer, he’d pass out. Footsteps quiet, he walked mindlessly to the living room and sat down on the carpeted floor. He crossed his legs. Inhaled. Exhaled.

The dorm was silent for a full minute. Neil couldn’t think properly.

Andrew came to the living room. Neil couldn’t see him, but he could feel his presence. The blond sat beside him slowly, probably mindful of the stitches.

“What?” Andrew asked.

He meant, _What’s wrong? Why are you being like this?_

Neil couldn’t hold it back. He snapped. “ _What?_ Seriously? You’re asking me _what_? You were stabbed, Andrew. Like, _fuck-_ ” He paused. Let out a shaky breath. Continued. “What if.. What if he had…”

Andrew put a hand in Neil’s curls and tugged. Still, Neil kept going. “I couldn’t… I can’t deal with that, okay?”

“Yeah,” Andrew said.

Neil was shaking. He looked up at Andrew and saw a blur of hazel. His vision was hazy, but not from dizziness. He blinked a few times, trying to clear the tears from his eyes, trying to get a better view.

Andrew was looking at him head on. Still here. 

There was an overwhelming, overbearing need to be close to Andrew, as close as he could get. Neil said, “Can I touch you?” and Andrew said, “Yes.”

Neil’s arms slide from Andrew’s shoulders to behind his neck. He tightened his arms until he was as close to Andrew as a hug would allow. His face buried into Andrew’s shoulder and he breathed him in until he could truly, truly confirm his presence.

After a few seconds, Andrew spoke lowly. His voice was passive, uncaring. “I’m okay, Neil.”

“Yeah,” Neil agreed, and yet the words broke down his control. A sob ripped through him, and suddenly he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t even tell if he was crying - it was something bigger than that. These were full sobs, ripping through his chest, a mix of panic and relief and absolute cherishment. 

His fingers dug into Andrew’s back. At some point, Andrew had let his hands fall to Neil’s back, too. His hands were curled into fists behind Neil.

“I can’t lose you,” Neil half mumbled, half choked, his words masked by Andrew’s skin. But Andrew heard - he always heard.

“You haven’t,” Andrew stated. Not a reassurance of the future, but a confirmation of the present. 

Neil unconsciously pulled him tighter. After a while, Neil’s sobs began to calm. Andrew waited patiently while Neil hiccuped and sniffed involuntarily.

If it were anyone else, they could have stabbed him, kicked him, beat him to the ground, and he wouldn’t have cried. His father could be alive, Riko could be alive. He wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t even sure he would cry if he lost another Fox. Not because they weren’t important to him - they were. It was just that Neil had spent his whole life realizing that people die. People die, and you move on.

He had never cried for his mother. He didn’t cry for himself.

Andrew was different. Andrew was home.

“You’re clingy,” Andrew eventually said once Neil’s body had stopped shaking.

Neil pulled back enough to see Andrew’s face. He could feel wetness beneath his eyes. He rubbed it away with his fingers.

“Can you kiss me?” Neil whispered.

“Your nose is running.”

“Still.”

Andrew hummed and leaned in. The press of their lips was the wax seal on an envelope. A sealed deal. It went on for a bit, just their lips, hard but tender. Neil had cradled Andrew’s face, his arms trapped between their chests. He eventually put his head back on Andrew’s shoulder, resting his head.

Andrew looked down at him. “Seriously?”

Neil’s breath had evened out, and he was fast asleep.

 

Andrew silently watched Neil and thought back to Neil’s tears, wet on his cheeks, concern aflame in his eyes.

Crying over _him_. Worried about _him_. Not sleeping because of _him_.

Neil’s tears had been enough to surprise him. It was the reason he had let himself be gentle, just this once.

And because if anyone could truly know the worry Neil was feeling, it was Andrew.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr @[anddreil](http://anddreil.tumblr.com/)!!! let's talk about our boys.


End file.
